The Disney Alliance - Season 1
by JAndrews557
Summary: When the "Mistress of All Evil" pulls together an unstoppable legion of villains, in hopes of conquering the Disney realms, heroes far and wide must band together and work as team if they ever plan to bring her down. Lines are crossed and sometimes there are no happy endings. This isn't your usual crossover event. Be warned, characters and storylines have been altered.
1. Escape from the Forbidden Mountain

**Author's note: So, I should probably say this first and foremost. I have no idea what I'm doing here. This is the first piece of FanFiction that I've ever written, and although for the most part, this first chapter is drawn directly from the film, trust me when I say that it will quickly be leaving the films behind. Am I writing the characters correctly? Do I even have a remote grasp on how to write engaging dialogue? Search me. But, this concept has been bothering me for quite some time, and I think I'm finally ready to put it down on paper. Or, whatever the equivalent happens to be online. So while this first chapter, and potentially the next few, is mostly obligatory exposition, I can assure you that it will get better as I dig into the meat of the story. And this is one massive story, which is why my ultimate plan is to split it up into multiple "seasons", if you will. So...Enjoy, and all that jazz.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The first thing he noticed was the stench.

It permeated everything, and mixed with the unpleasant dampness of his cell, he could have probably listed off about a million places he'd rather be at the moment. That is, if he hadn't been under other pressures. Like trying to rack his brain for what had transpired just hours earlier. It had all been so sudden, so out of the blue, that it had hardly been given the chance to register.

What was his name? _Phillip_. Or rather, Prince Phillip of Germany, if you were into giving people titles. He had met the girl of his dreams that day, and had every hope of spending the rest of his life with her. That had been the plan, at least, right up until the moment he walked through that door and had been thrown into flurry of madness. Maleficent. It was the one name that kept running through his head, the one person that he would have never expected to find waiting for him. He wanted to kick himself for being so gullible, to walk right into such an obvious trap, but instead, he simply sat there in his own self pity.

It was then that he began to understand what isolation really meant. As a prince, he had never truly been alone. Sure, there had been times in his life when he had been given a break from the company of his father, or other various dignitaries or tutors that he was forced into coercing with, moments when he had ventured into the forest to simply get away from it all, but, if he was honest with himself there was always a servant waiting just outside his bedroom door, ready to tend to his ever beck and call. Even when there was no other human presence around, he always had Sampson to keep him company. But now, sitting there in complete and utter silence, with thoughts and emotions his only friends, his mind couldn't help but wander. Why would the woman who was hardly more than a legend to scare small children, kidnap him? Why would she have brought him back to her castle and chained him up in her dungeons, without even the slightest explanation? It wasn't as though he had done something to put himself on her radar...or had he? No, he was a prince to be sure, first in line to the throne, but in the grand scheme of things, he was a nobody to someone as powerful as she.

So why was he there?

Phillip grips the skin around his steel-bound wrists, wringing out the numbness that being shackled, had brought on. They were hardly comfortable, but then again, he figured that was probably the point. Judging from the cobwebs hung about the ceiling, a rusty battle ax that sat nearby, in a rather out of place fashion, and the general aura of his immediate surroundings, Phillip got the feeling that this wasn't the presidential suite of prison cells. He needed to find a way out of there, that much was obvious. The real question, was how to do so without arousing suspicion. There was bound to be a guard posted right outside his door, just waiting for him to make a move. As if being chained and shackled wasn't a big enough problem as it stood. Maybe if he could get a hold of that battle axe...

There was a creaking of the door, then, footsteps. The fluttering of wings.

Jerking his head out of his lap with an almost jarring speed, Phillip's chocolate brown pools fall upon his horned captor. Maleficent. Maleficent, and her toady of a feather-brained raven. Swooping in from behind, Diablo perches himself on the handle of the battle axe, his cold beady eyes practically gazing into Phillip's soul. Hardly in the mood for a visit from the "Mistress of All Evil" herself, Phillip furrows his brows and looks away in disgust. The way she presented herself, her eyes wide with a cruel sort of glee, he knew she had won, and she knew it too.

"Oh come now, Prince Phillip. Why so melancholy?" Asking Phillip in a mocking tone, with no reply intended, Maleficent steps further into the cell, each step echoing across the tightly spaced chamber. Oh, she was going to have fun with this. "A wondrous future lies before you! You, the destined hero of a charming fairytale come true!"

Twirling her hand over the balled end of her scepter, her fingers dancing through the air as she works her magic, Maleficent present him with an image of his current state, an explanation as to what would unfold in the coming days and years. After all, she may relish in all sorts of evil pleasures, but she wasn't as heartless as one would think. And who knew? Maybe she'd get something out of this as well? "Behold! King Stefan's castle." Once a fogged over crystal, the inner workings of her scepter are revealed as an image is displayed within the core. An image easily recognizable to Phillip, the castle of which he had visited just hours earlier. "And in yonder topmost tower, dreaming of her true love..." Phillip watched helpless, as the image zoomed further and further in, panning up into one of the towering structures jutting out of the castle grounds, past the windows and doors, coming to a sudden halt at the bedside of a sheltered woman.

"The Princess Aurora."

So that was what this was all about. Coming to the realization that even to this very day, Maleficent was still determined to see the princess die, the princess that he had been betrothed to as a boy, Phillip's heart sank. As little as he knew of her, he couldn't help but pity the sight of her laying there in that bed, practically beyond the veil of life. It made his stomach churn, but what was to come next, only made him feel worse. "But see the gracious whim of fate. Why, 'tis the self same peasant maid, who won the heart of our noble prince, but yesterday." It was her. It couldn't have been, and yet, there she was. The girl he had met in the forest, the girl he had fallen in love with at first glance, had been nothing more than the very woman he was engaged to in the first place. Filled with a mix of emotions, a rage that Maleficent had touched her, Aurora, a frustration that there wasn't anything he could do to help her, a grief that came over him like the floodgates opening, Phillip sat there and watched as Maleficent continued with her fun. "She is indeed most wondrous fair. Gold of sunshine in her hair, lips that shame the red, red rose. In ageless sleep, she finds repose."

Phillip couldn't take much more of this. He couldn't. This was almost worse than torture, the way he squirmed in his seat, half-heartedly pulling on his chains. Oh so ready to break free and strike down this monster of a woman while he still had the chance. Maleficent, on the other end of the spectrum, was ready to laugh. This was just to easy! She had him by the collar, and she wasn't about to let it end there. "The years roll by, but a hundred years to a steadfast heart, are but a day." Moving the progression of images floating within her scepter along, she gives her noble prince a peak into his glorious future. The image of her own castle gates, reeling open with a haunting creak. "And now, the gates of the dungeon part."

A withered, aged, elderly Prince Phillip crawls through the opened gates on horseback, shaggy bear flowing down over his chest and intermingling with the hairs of the horse. His skin shagged, his once princely garbs were now nothing more than rags. The steed fared little better, malnourished, nothing more than skin and bones. It was probably the most pathetic image of himself that Phillip could muster up. "And the prince is free to go his way. Off he rides on his noble steed, a valiant figure, straight and tall, to wake his love..." Pulling back as she shakes the images away, Maleficent finally finds herself with little left to reveal to her prince. The vision he had seen was enough to shake him to his core, and if that had been the whole point, she was certain she had succeeded. A malicious grin crawling onto her face, she searches for the last few words needed to crack him open, to push Phillip beyond his limits and incite a reaction, any reaction from him. "With love's first kiss, and prove that true love conquers all!"

Without saying a word, Phillip lurches from his seat, ready to attack. He didn't care if he didn't stand a chance against her, he was fed up with the joy she was getting out of this, and was desperate to swipe that smug off look of her face. Unfortunately, there was one tiny little detail he had forgotten about. The chains buckle, yanking him back a comfortable distance from his target. With this last failed attempt at a struggle, he could do nothing more but watch with a glaring frustration, Maleficent bursting out into a wicked laughter. Putting her back to the prisoner, Maleficent extends her arm to Diablo, beckoning him to her side.

"Come, my pet. Let us leave our noble prince with these happy thoughts." Hopping onto her arm with an incredibly uncoordinated fashion, Diablo gives Phillip one last haunting smile as he rides his master to the cell door, the door that would shut the former prince off from the world, for the remainder of his days. With only the presence of a misshapen goon bringing him a meal every morning and night, he had little to look forward to. As much as he struggled to pull free from his shackles, Phillip had little hope for a chance at happiness, and that, was a pleasing thought to the raven. "A most gratifying day."

Closing the cell door shut with ease, Maleficent gives Diablo a curt nod. "For the first time in sixteen years, I shall sleep well." With the turn of a key, gears clanking from within as the door locks, Maleficent can't help but feel relieved. Not that she would ever show it, but down deep, it had been an incredibly stressful past decade and a half, as she frantically searched far and wide for the Princess Aurora. Fulfilling her prophecy was more than a matter of pride, it was a promise she had made, something that she couldn't very well take back. If the sixteenth birthday came and went without even the slightest attempt on the girl's life, Maleficent would loose all the fear, all the respect that she had earned from the people residing in nearby kingdoms, and that wasn't something she could allow. She had worked much to hard to get where she was.

Sliding the key into a hidden pocket within her cloak, Maleficent puts the whole matter behind her as she casually strolls out of the dungeon, no intention of returning anytime soon. In fact, the only place she had on her mind, was her sleeping chambers. With her mind at ease, she was ready for a peaceful slumber.

* * *

_It started out like any dream that a "Mistress of All Evil" would have. Fire and brimstone, the peasantry running in horror as their livelihoods were destroyed, all the doom and gloom one would expect from one who named themselves Maleficent. _

_With clouds ablaze with a purplish hue, swirling about the Forbidden Mountain rather ominously, Maleficent cackles in delight as she watches King Stefan's kingdom burn from afar, from a stake she had claimed on a treacherous cliffside overlooking the valley between her domain, and that of the King's. If her waking life could be considered miserable, this was certainly the highpoint. Carrying complete control over how her drams played out, Maleficent often found herself fantasizing about this very moment, night in and night out. Each time, was just was satisfying as the next. After all, what better way to end the day, than with another round of scheduled chaos? _

_The royal army charges across the valley, each adorned with the finest suits of armor imaginable, swords and spears out and ready. It was every man the King could muscle up and send her way. Just like she liked it. A challenge. With the open thrust of her palm to the wind, the earth opens up, swallowing the left flank hole. Amongst a wave of shouting, screams of terror, the crunching of bones, an entire unit of the army was gone. Erased from her mind as quickly as she had thought them up. Still, the remaining forces pressed on, determined to reach their goal. _

_"Fools!" Enjoying the rush of adrenaline this nightly power gave her, Maleficent raises an army of her own. An army of the dead, of soldiers and knights slain in battle against her more...powerful form. This may not be the true conjuring of the dead, but it was as close as the pale woman was willing to go. Even she had her limits on how far she was willing to take the dark arts. This, however, wasn't even close to that limit. Not by a mile. Sending the skeletal army into battle against those of flesh and blood, Maleficent takes a back seat and simply enjoys the show, a show of her own creation. That was why the sudden emergence of a presence breathing down her neck, startled her so clearly it, appropriately expressed itself upon her face. That, was something that seldom happened. "How dare..."_

_Twirling about to face the one who had such a little appreciation for personal boundaries, Maleficent is brought to a startling realization that there was little life anywhere near her. Much less close enough to breathe down her neck. "...You." Squinting cautiously as she looks about the barren but treacherous mountain slope she had claimed, jagged rocks jutting in and out of the already dangerous terrain, the horned woman is unsure whether to proceed with her nightmarish dream. Naturally, she must have imagined it, and yet, she had the strangest feeling that there really had been someone there. Someone she hadn't procured out of her subconscious._

_"Well, playing tricks now, are we? I do hope you realize who you are dealing with."_

_Taking a few carefully placed steps forward, her face softens as she searches the ridge of rocks that formed an arena around her, trapping her at the bottom. For a moment, she considered climbing up to a vantage point that would grant her a heightened sense of sight. If there really had been anyone there, she would be able to spot them from above. But then, she hears something. The crackling of rocks, of pebbles bouncing down the slope that had attracted her eyes in the first place. _

_There was a figure, blacked out in shadows, but clear enough to distinguish that it wasn't a usual haunt of her dreams. This...man, this horned, cloaked creature, was like nothing she had seen before, neither in her dream state, nor in her waking life. It had the air of death surrounding him, real death, and the smell of rotting bones. It stared down on Maleficent with a chilling glare, making no obvious movement, nor sound. It simply stood, and watched, and waited, for the mistress to make the first move._

_Swallowing as softly as she could, doing her absolute best to preserve the state of dominance that she so often possessed, Maleficent curls the corners of her mouth into a nervous grin, her lips widening as if to speak a first word._

_She didn't get the chance._

* * *

Yanked out of her sleep by the irritating caw of her raven, Maleficent glares into the darkness of her quarters. That had to have been one of the most ill placed, undesired wake up calls in recent memory. She had been so close to sharing words with the stranger, and yet, there she was. Back in the realm of the living. Sighing with a rational frustration, the mistress pulls herself up off her side, her head, hair and horns leaving the comfort of a pillow. Throwing off a thin blanket that draped over the side of her bed, Maleficent swiftly climbs to her feet and reaches for the iconic headdress that she had set aside on a nearby dressing table.

More cawing. "Oh, would you please be quiet?!"

Pulling the headdress down over her hair, fastening it to the cloaked garb that she had carelessly left on as she drifted to sleep, Maleficent's anger only increased with each passing second. That bird would not shut up, and as her ears began to pick up on other sounds emerging from the outside, neither were those fools she called minions. So much for sleeping well.

Finally, she had enough, grabbing her scepter and throwing the door to her quarters open. "Silence!" Hoping for a quick resolution, her eyes dart out over her castle, searching for any sign of Diablo and/or what had been causing so much noise that she had been forced to leave her dream state to handle such meager tasks. "You tell those fools to-" Her words stop short. Out of the corner of her eye, Maleficent's heart drops at the sight of Diablo, once a faithful, loyal companion, now petrified into solid granite marble. "No." How this could have happened was beyond her. Surely not one of her minions could have performed such magic, and she was certain she hadn't done it, so who...

Subconsciously drawn to the attention near the drawbridge of her castle, gears rattling as her mentally challenged minions dropped the gates, Maleficent's blood boils. There he was, Prince Phillip on horseback, enchanted sword and shield in tow, escaping from her domain with ease.

"No!" The drawbridge was rising, but it was too late. Samson, a horse clearly in his prime, was galloping across the incline as though it weren't any more difficult than a flat surface. With a graceful pounding of his hind legs, the horse carries Phillip over the edge, reaching the other side without showing any signs of slowing down. Pebbles shaking under his hoofs as he races for the kingdom, Samson gives it all he's got.

But two could play at this game, and Maleficent was not someone to be trifled with. Already climbing to the highest point of her castle, draped in moonlight, Maleficent glares daggers down over her domain. Phillip had escaped further away than any other prisoner had ever gotten, with little opposition, and with each passing moment, was moving farther and farther out of her reach. Given the chance, she would have destroyed each and every minion that was simple-minded enough to let him run free, but, she didn't have time for that. This wasn't a dream, and if Phillip managed to reach his destination, everything would be over. Aurora would awaken, and Maleficent would fall in the eyes of those that once feared her. She couldn't let him escape.

And so, with a thrust of her scepter, thunder cracks. A trail of lightning streaks across the mountainside, buzzing with energy, as it collides with an arching rock formation. Blasted into a shower of jagged rocks, Sampson does his best to avoid the larger chunks that rained down, Phillip forced to do the rest. Rock ricocheting off the raised shield of virtue, Samson pushes on, hoping to make it out of the mountains before another attempt against their lives could be made.

Gritting her teeth, Maleficent takes a more direct approach, this time hurling a bolt of lightning right into their path of travel. If this wouldn't stop their momentum, nothing natural would. And although Samson is forced into taking a flying leap over the gaping hole that had been formed in his path, it doesn't. Maleficent wasn't going to have to try a whole lot harder if she was to succeed.

Pointing the ball of her scepter into the air over her head, she goes for the one spell that she knew would slow him down, if not halt him completely. It was something she had learned years ago, something that had gotten her out of tight situations before. Seldom did she actually use magic in this simpler form, commanding the magic using spoken words rather than simply by thought, but this was something of a necessity. "A forest of thorn shall be his tomb. Born through the skies on a fog of doom." Reciting the first part of her spell, storm clouds swirling overhead as each syllable escaped her lips, Maleficent points the storm down a path directly to the kingdom, bypassing Phillip altogether.

"Now go with a the curse and serve me well. Round Stefan's castle, cast my spell!" Thunder rolls through the clouds as they wrap around the kingdom, and more specifically, the royal palace, casting an ominous tone over the spires that climb into the sky. Power building, bolts of lightning strike the ground, humming with life as they almost sporadically hit rock here and there, pushing their energy through the bedrock and straight into the soil below. At first, it was only sprouts, but in moments, an entire forest of thorn stood in Phillip's way, blocking the only route back into the castle.

Samson screeches to a halt, neighing with freight as the horse and his rider are engulfed into the thorns, the forest spreading out further and further at an unrelenting pace.

Maleficent laughs wickedly, finally managing to bring Phillip to a stop. He would have to fight his way through if he had any hopes of getting into the castle, and Maleficent wasn't about to believe that it was possible. The thorns were simply too thick, too dangerous to climb through. His cape would snag, his horse would trip over himself as they lose their footing. It was a brilliant plan, and still, Phillip fought with all his might, cutting and slashing and chopping at vine after vine, his sword of truth leading them through inch by inch.

It was a slow process, and for a time, Phillip had his doubts. That Maleficent truly had won, that there was no hope of reaching his love. But, before he even realized what he had done, Phillip finds himself on the other side of the forest, a path successfully cut through. He was practically there! Only a lone, cobblestone bridge separated him from his love.

"No, it cannot be!" Raising her arms over her head, Maleficent is engulfed in flames, her body dematerializing into a swirling display of light, color and sparks of energy. Within this state, she had no thoughts, no ability to speak or laugh or breath. She could only point and shoot her way through the sky, hurtling towards King Stefan's castle at a faster pace than one could possibly run, much less imagine. If she was lucky, she could plant herself between Phillip and his victory, serve as one final obstacle for the Prince to come up against. Plummeting into the ground at an alarming rate, the mistress rematerializes before Phillip in a flash of green smoke, her body still flickering with with all the fire and intimidation she could muster. Samson neighs in freight, rearing up and nearly bucking Phillip off. It was only for his years of training on horseback that he managed to pull himself back into control, unnerved by his captor's sudden presence.

Maleficent was certainly unpredictable, and he couldn't be too sure of what she had planned. Whatever it was, the frown on her face couldn't mean anything good. "Now shall you deal with me, old prince, and all the powers of hell!"

With a powerful explosion at her feet, Maleficent is carried into the sky in a plume of smoke, disappearing entirely from sight as she pushes beyond the cloud line with laughter. With her former body cast aside, losing the green skin and horns that made her so easily recognizable to the common person, her voice deepening, the "Mistress of All Evil" takes on a truly terrifying form, one of the many dragons that plagued the region over the past century. If she was being honest with herself, this wasn't a form she often liked to take on. Of course it was deadly, but it was also massive, and uncoordinated, and rather stupid if she was removed from the pilot's seat.

It was almost as though she was taking on another presence entirely, but, it was effective. Flames flicking from her lips, Maleficent glares down on her prey as though victory was certain.

Gathering his nerves, Phillip gallops towards the beast, sword raised, determined to give himself a sporting chance. He didn't know if he was going to make it out of this encounter alive, much less victorious, but he had nothing left to lose. It was here and now where he was to make his stance. It didn't take long, unfortunately for him, to be dethroned from his horse, knocked onto his back with a stream of fire. Fire hotter than any he had ever encountered before, illuminated with a signature green tint. Before giving him the chance to retaliate, Maleficent releases another steady stream of flames into his general direction, hoping this indirect attack would be enough to reduce the Prince to nothing more than ash.

Rolling back onto his feet, Phillip prepares for another round, watching the cobblestone ground just a few feet away, melt into oblivion. With the dragon barreling towards Phillip with another barrage of fire, the Prince throws his shield up, desperately trying to stay on his feet as he's forced to fall back into the thorns. This wasn't a position he wanted to be in. Cornered and trapped against a wall. Still, he had found himself with a bit of cover, and he was going to use it for all it was worth.

Peering into the forest as though the battle had become a game to her, Maleficent searches for her target rather unsuspecting. Now was his chance. Slamming his sword down into the dragon's snout with all his strength, Phillip hopes to slice through and lay the first real injury down on the table. Unfortunately, her scales only giving her more protection than needed, as the dragon's head simply bobbles. Enraged, Maleficent snaps at the Prince, only to be parried with swipes of the sword.

She had endured about enough of this nonsense. Phillip was only fooling himself believing he could be victorious, after all, and it was high time for this little game of cat and mouse to end. Pulling her head up out of the forest, Maleficent ignites the vines, and sets the mood for a timely death, flames flickering up into the clouded sky above. It was time to get serious, but with nowhere to run, Phillip was out of ideas.

A small, shrill voice rings out within her eardrums. "Up! Come this way!"

The voice was familiar, and yet, Maleficent could hardly place it. She was simply too absorbed in the battle to even attempt to remember. Finding Phillip racing up a cliff side, flames licking his feet, Maleficent lunges forward, ready for the kill. It was her perfect chance to strike, and she was ready to take it.

Snapping at him yet again, Phillip managing to barely reach the top before being forced back into battle. Maleficent is blocked with each passing swing of the sword. If this were anyone else, they would have become discouraged. Phillip was clearly trained well with the blade, and for someone who hardly had a difficult life, he was faring quite well. But, this wasn't just anyone. Maleficent had a much bolder plan, a riskier one, but one that she ultimately knew would pay off. And so, she kept snapping and he kept parrying, pushing him further and further back until it was too late.

Taking one foot off the ledge, Phillip's eyes widen, realizing what had been done. He had been effectively pushed into a corner, a flaming field of thorns awaiting him at the bottom. There was nowhere left for him to run, to even move around to fight her off.

He's trapped.

With another blast of wicked flames, his shield is knocked from his hands. Maleficent laughs with glee as Phillip watches his only protection fall into the abyss.

Maleficent's laughter stops, her eyes falling upon three glowing colors, hovering just over the Prince's shoulders. Red, green, blue. The voice she had heard just moments earlier, and it clicked into place. It was the three fairies. The fairies who had put herself in this situation in the first place, by giving Aurora a fleeting chance at survival.

Combining their magic, sparks of magic fly about Phillip's sword, as though they were enchanting it with the ultimate spell. A spell that would lead to her downfall. And all _she_ could do, was watch.

"Now sword of truth fly swift and sure, that evil die and good endure!" Flora, the fairy of pink, chants as she points her wand forward, practically guiding Phillip's hand movements. This was it. The moment of truth. Maleficent lunges forward, striking before she lost her chance. Retaliating with all his might, Phillip lets the sword fly, plummeting through the dragon's soft underbelly, and straight for her heart.

With a cry of pain, shock and disbelief, but mostly pain, Maleficent falls onto her hind legs, desperately trying to pull the sword loose. But, it was too late. Hardly having enough energy to snap at the Prince one final time, the "Mistress of All Evil" tumbles over the cliffside, falling to her doom in a wave of flames and thorns.

All, of her own making.

The flames slowly extinguish, as the air turns cold and silent. As though a heavy burden was finally lifted off the land. Peering down into the gorge below, Phillip cautiously searches for the dragon, the once great and feared entity known to all but herself, as Maleficent. Instead, of the dragon he had been expecting, he finds only a pile of ash, streaks of purple mixed with the black. That, and his sword, dulling from the battle.

It was over.

With a sigh of relief, Phillip climbs to his feet as he's joined by his horse and the three fairies, Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, all of which had helped him more over the past few minutes than he had ever needed in the past ** years of his life. Sharing a quiet, but happy moment with the fairies, rubbing his hand through Samson's mane, he watches with earnest eyes, as the forest of thorns dissipates into thin air, the serene, lush countryside returning to the land.

Everything was as it should be.

* * *

It had taken Phillip a little longer than he would have liked, but as the sun rose, so did his hope for the kingdom, which as the fairies had explained along the way, had been enchanted into an endless sleep, woken only by the awaking of Princess Aurora. And so as the dawn broke, he comes face to face with his sleeping beauty, primed and ready for his arrival. Finally getting a good look at her as she rested, Phillip couldn't help but remember the words Maleficent had used to describe her. Her hair was golden as the sun, her lips were as red as the rose. She was beautiful, and she was only waking for the one thing that could break all curses. Love.

With the kiss that had been foretold the very same day that this curse was placed, Aurora awakens, her soft lips curling into a smile as she's greeted with the face of a man who had gone through hell and back to spend the rest of his life with her. The man who she had met once upon a dream.

"No."

* * *

Towering over a bubbling cauldron, known to those familiar with the story, as the black cauldron, Maleficent watches the following events play out with horror. Although she only narrowly escaped death, her headdress and cloak in tatters, her pale green skin smeared with soot, the mistress had never been more enraged in all her life. Gritting her teeth with frustration, her hands griped tight into fists, nails digging into her fleshy palms, she finds the image of a waking beauty rise up out of the steam, the cauldron shimmering as bubbles burst. "No!"

"I was so close!" Backhanding the cauldron onto it's side, the thick metal rim clanking against the uneven stone floor, Maleficent fumes. Without the aid of her scepter, she has little outlet to really unleash her anger, her hatred for all who dared to oppose her. The image disappears as the boiling water rushes out of the top, spilling across the floor and falling down into the cracks where the stones had been pieced together.

"Calm yourself."

Raising her eyebrows with a realization that she wasn't alone, that her outrage had been observed, the harsh, soulless demand sends shivers down her spine. Her anger and frustration temporarily subduing, Maleficent pulls back to face the stranger. After all, she was alive and it was only appropriate to show her gratitude, one way or another.

Then, she sees someone she would never have expected. Of course in retrospect, it was probably the most obvious thing in the world, but in the moment, she could hardly believe her eyes. It was the man from her dream, in all of his hellish glory, slumped into a throne of granite stone. His cold, empty eyes gaze past the red hood that hung low over his head, watching the battle worn mistress take a few step closer. He taps his skeletal fingers impatiently, as he awaits a response.

"You..." Her mind jumped into a sprint as it ran a mile a minute, trying to take it all in. The fact that this man, if he was a man at all, had somehow entered her subconscious as she slept, that he had pulled her from the brink of death and granted her a second chance at life. She should have been grateful, but instead she was only confused. All things accounted for, she shouldn't be alive. "I believe we have met before?"

"I have watched you from a distance, Maleficent. Kept my eye on you. But no, we have never met." These words escaping from the empty place where his lips would have been, were it not for the fact that his face was nothing more than bone, the benefactor allows Maleficent to approach. Not for his shake, but hers. There was much needed to be discussed, and the faster the mistress grew accustomed to his terrifying appearance, the better.

"I have gone by many names, but favorite amongst them, the Horned King. Welcome, to Prydain."

* * *

**So that's it. **

**Or at least for the first chapter. I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to update, being a part-time student, part-time employee, full-time artist, but I'll do my best to get around to it as quickly as possible. Maybe in a week, more or less? Either way, if you have anything to say, whether it's about how much you hate my writing style, or can't wait to see what's next, or have a suggestion or idea, feel free to let me know! Like I've said, I'm new at this, so I'm sort of tweaking things as I go. **

**So until next time, stay classy! **


	2. 2 When the Devil Comes Knocking

**AN: To all those who took the time out of your busy day to write up a review, to those who are following the story, can I just thank you for all the input and support? Really, thank you. I didn't know if I would get _any_ response when I posted this, so to see that there are at least a few of you out there who are interested in seeing where I take this, has really inspired me to put a lot more work into this than I had originally planned.**

**I was a little in the dark when it came to how I should be spacing the story out, so if the multi-line paragraphs irk you, rest assured that I'm going to be working on getting the story to flow easier. And to those who are afraid that I'm going to altering the characters drastically...well, let me be clear about this. There's really only one world where I plan to have major changes, and in regards to the minor changes, they'll all make sense. Trust me, I love these characters, and I won't be changing them beyond the point of recognition, so you have nothing to worry about.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Towering over a bubbling cauldron, known to those familiar with the story, as the black cauldron, Maleficent watches Prince Phillip awaken the sleeping beauty with horror. Although she only narrowly escaped death, her headdress and cloak in tatters, her pale green skin smeared with soot, the mistress had never been more enraged in all her life. Gritting her teeth with frustration, her hands griped tight into fists, nails digging into her fleshy palms, she finds the image of a waking Aurora rise up out of the steam, the cauldron shimmering as bubbles burst. "No!"

"I was so close!" Backhanding the cauldron onto it's side, the thick metal rim clanking against the uneven stone floor, Maleficent fumes. Without the aid of her scepter, she has little outlet to really unleash her anger, her hatred for all who dared to oppose her. Her hatred for all those who found a happy ending. The image disappears as the boiling water rushes out of the top, spilling across the floor and falling down into the cracks where the stones had been pieced together.

"Calm yourself."

Raising her eyebrows with a realization that she wasn't alone, that her outrage had been observed, the harsh, soulless demand sends shivers down her spine. Her anger and frustration temporarily subduing, Maleficent pulls back to face the stranger. After all, she was alive and it was only appropriate to show her gratitude, one way or another.

Then, she sees someone she would never have expected. Of course in retrospect, it was probably the most obvious thing in the world, but in the moment, she could hardly believe her eyes. It was the man from her dream, in all of his hellish glory, slumped into a throne of granite stone. His cold, empty eyes gaze past the red hood that hung low over his head, watching the battle worn mistress take a few step closer. He raps his skeletal fingers impatiently, awaiting a response.

"You..." Her mind jumped into a sprint as it ran a mile a minute, trying to take it all in. The fact that this man, if he was a man at all, had somehow entered her subconscious as she slept, that he had pulled her from the brink of death and granted her a second chance at life. She should have been grateful, but instead she was only confused. All things accounted for, she shouldn't be alive. "I believe we have met before?"

"I have watched you from a distance, Maleficent. Kept my eye on you. But no, we have never met." These words escaping from the empty place where his lips would have been, were it not for the fact that his face was nothing more than bone, the benefactor allows Maleficent to approach. Not for his sake, but hers. There was much needed to be discussed, and the faster the mistress grew accustomed to his terrifying appearance, the better.

"I have gone by many names, but favorite amongst them, the Horned King. Welcome, to-"

Words come to a halt, breathing, movement from every corner of the Horned King's throne room comes to a screeching stop. Maleficent stares into space with a blank expression, her foot placed in the prime location to move herself closer to the lich king, but, refuses to budge a inch further. It's almost as though time has been put on pause.

Then, a head pops into frame, almost superimposed over the scene. Hair licked into place, golden crown situated on his head, it's none other than Emperor Kuzco, ready to come in and spoil the moment. As usual. With a nervous laugh, he uncaps a red highlighter and addresses the reader head on. "Hi. 'Scuse me. Two seconds here."

"You see this guy? This...really...creepy...-" The Emperor draws a large circle around the Horned King, marker screeching with each passing stroke. He is quite literally using the scene as a drawing board. "-scary, skeleton guy, the one who looks like he belongs in a crypt? Yeah, watch out for him. Trust me on this, he is trouble. Not this person." He draws a massive red X over Maleficent's figure as he speaks, a slight grin on his face. Then, he returns to the circle around the Horned King, looping his highlighter around several more times to emphasis his point. "This...er, horned guy." Finally, Kuzco recaps the highlighter, lid snapping tight. "Things all clear now? Things all good? Alright, just wanted to make sure. Please continue."

* * *

After a brief introduction that began and ended with the Horned King's name, Maleficent had been cryptically removed from the throne room, led personally by the Horned King himself. His breathing deep and soulless, she had intended to flee from his side the very moment she was given the chance. Not that she felt small in comparison, but there was an air to him that struck her as though he were hiding something. Like he was keeping certain details about himself hidden from her grasp. But, with the route that he had chosen to take, winding in and out of dank corridors that were lit only by torches strung to the wall every few meters, she had little choice but to follow, or risk loosing herself in this labyrinth.

It was a place she could only describe, as phoney. Almost fabricated, as if the place had been constructed for her visit alone, to be torn down the moment she departed. If, that were in the cards at all. The stone hallways reeked of...well, nothing, which surprised the mistress considering all other factors. The corridors were held up by wooden beams alone, the stone floors hardly chiseled into anything more than a basic, flat pathway. Yes, cobwebs indeed hung from the rafters, and water did drip from an undetermined source above her, but none of it felt real. If anything, that was what unnerved her the most.

"You have been awfully quiet since we departed from your throne room. Is there something troubling you?" She questioned, trying to lighten the deadpan mood that had been set. "Am I not what you expected of me?" Her face dimly lit by torchlight, Maleficent peers down at the floor, not entirely expecting an answer. Her hand wrapped about her waist, she could still feel a slight tinge of pain from the battle. It wasn't a sheering pain, by any means. It was dull, only really felt when she bent herself a certain way, when she breathed in a certain way. But, it was most certainly there.

After a moment of silence, without giving even the slightest indication that he would return a few words, the Horned King spoke. "My dear, I prefer to remain under a certain composure. Do not take me for the talkative sort." His arms hanging loosely by his side, the Horned King leads Maleficent into alcove off the main path, his face forward and stoic. Following his raspy voice, only the sound of footsteps as the pair stroll out into a chasm, the stone walls giving way to bare rock and dirt.

The path, though, continues on in the form a bridge, which given the looks of it, had seldom been traveled upon. It struck Maleficent as one of the newer looking bits of the castle she had seen thus far. It certainly wasn't to be compared to the scruffier parts. And on the far end of the bridge, a lone tower resting within the rockwork as though it were part of the chasm's natural infrastructure. A rotting, wooden door allowing access from the bridge, it's a straight shot up into the patchwork of stalactites above, little more to speak of.

"Of course. You must understand, however, that I am not accustomed to being blatantly ignored." Peering over the edge, Maleficent cautiously keeps herself close to the center. After all, she couldn't be sure of the bridge's stability, despite it's unweathered appearance. "You have given me little reason to trust your company." Other than saving her life, of course. She'd have to thank him for that.

Cryptic as always, the Horned King remains silent and unwavering, pulling a brass key from within his cloak as they reach the tower door. He realized that his guest had questions, curiosities that needed to be fulfilled. But, it wasn't the right moment to unveil all of this. Later, when the woman had been given a chance to bath, to dress in a more suitable fashion. With bent horns and scraps of cloth hanging from her shoulders, Maleficent was in desperate need of R&R. "I am sure you have many question for me to answer. Why I have brought you here, why I saved your life...Now is not the time for such idle concerns."

Sliding the key into the appropriate hole, he carefully unlocks the door, gears ticking and turning as they fall into place. Finally, with a pop, the door creaks open with a push of his outstretched hand, beckoning Maleficent in. "Supper will be served within the hour."

With a suspicious glance to the Horned King, Maleficent steps inside, fully expected to be greeted with a dungeon cell, torture devices of sorts, maybe a mutant reptile. The usual prisoner stuff. Instead, she was greeted with a sleeping quarters that didn't look, or smell for that matter, half bad. She was pleasantly surprised. "I'm almost disappointed, oh Horned King. I must admit that I was expecting far worse from a most mysterious one." The corners of her lips curl into a teasing grin, almost amused by such a chivalrous sign.

"Bathe, dress. I shall send for you when the moment arrives." Pulling the door closed behind her, the Horned King gives her one last look, secretly glad that the mistress wasn't taking this the wrong way. He had no intention of buttering her up and allowing her to play him like a puppet. Still, as wicked as he was, the woman was his guest. He didn't want her to go without the basic necessities of life, especially after such a crushing blow. "Until then, make yourself comfortable."

Wincing at the loud slamming of the door, fairly certain that some of the already rotting wood had splintered, Maleficent lets out a deep, relieved sigh as she looks around the chamber that she would call home for the following moments. The walls and floors weren't much different than what she had already seen of the castle, uneven stone jutting out here and there, beams holding up the walls and ceiling. Still, there was a suitable looking cot facing the door, a few blankets and pillow draped over the edges, a porcelain tub that stuck out like a sore thumb, out of place in such a medieval environment, and a chest pressed against the wall near the cot. A mirror stood alone in the corner, dust accumulating around the edges.

Almost subconsciously, Maleficent paces across the chamber, her eyes glued to the mirror as she hoped to get a good look at herself. After all, she had been through quite a rough time since she had last seen her own reflection. She needed to see it again. To see the pathetic creature that had failed so miserably at something that should have been so simple. Her reflection taking shape within the glass, Maleficent raises an eyebrow, touching her pale fingers to her bosom. "My, my...we have seen better days, now haven't we?" Her face was smeared with soot, strands of jet black hair sticking out unevenly around her headdress and curling around the hems. Her cloak was in shambles, hardly holding itself together around her body.

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen herself in this manner, and as the Mistress of All Evil, it was hardly becoming of her title. At this point, though, she was beginning to wonder if she was even deserving of that much. To be called the mistress of everything evil, when she had experienced so little success in recent years. That title belonged to someone else now. If she wanted it back, she would have to take it, starting with repairs to what she could. "Perhaps I should do something to make myself a bit more presentable." Pulling a strand of her cloak off one shoulder, the piece of cloth simply falls to the floor, not even hinged to the rest by a thread. It was certainly worse than she had thought.

Going through the motions, Maleficent removes the headdress, allowing a full head of hair to fall around her shoulders as she tosses the horns to the floor. Although no one would ever get close enough to the mistress for her to reveal this little secret, the horns jutting out of her head were much smaller than she let on, using the headdress as simple compensation. It didn't bother her in the least, but larger horns meant a higher degree of intimidation, and in her business, every little bit counts. Unlatching what was left of her cloak, she drops it to the floor around her feet as she steps out wearing nothing more than her chemise, which wasn't entirely protected from her previous battle itself.

Slipping out of her shoes, her toes wiggling excitedly at their freedom, Maleficent eyes the tub with curiosity. She had figured out rather quickly that it was intended for washing purposes, but the porcelain had thrown her off. Since when had they ever been built using anything more than wood and possibly a little tar to hold everything together? Brushing the thought aside, she instinctively turns one of the knobs, hot water streaming out of the pipe as though there was nothing to it. "How peculiar." Indoor plumbing during the middle ages. It would have surprised just about anyone, Maleficent included. Still, as the water level rises, steam rising up and filling her chamber with a comfortable, misty feel, Maleficent decides to take this new invention for a spin, pulling herself out of the last article that hung to her skin, and swiftly sliding herself deep into the water, letting it consume her nude body entirely.

Taking a deep breath through the nose as her muscles relax, Maleficent rests her eyes, head on the rim of the tub, her mind unwinding from the stress of being stabbed through the heart and then immediately pulled from a certain death by a mysterious horned figure. She had barely been able to register everything that had occurred within the past hour, from the moment she had woken from her sleep, to the battle, to the meeting with a Horned King, to this very moment, but now that a calm had settled into her life, she was finally given a chance to reflect. On everything. She couldn't deny that she was still furious that Phillip had beaten her to the punch, that Aurora had awakened and was now living a happily ever after with her prince charming, but, she had already gotten that pent up rage out of her system. Now, she was simply bitter about the whole ordeal. She truly had been close to victory, and if it hadn't been for those fairies, she would have been. Phillip would have died a bloody death at her own hands, and Maleficent would have returned to her mountain with satisfaction. Instead, she was in an unknown land, with an unknown benefactor, who just so happened to be inviting her to dinner.

* * *

Hunched over on his hands and knees, the Horned King's personal slave and punching bag is hard at work, scrubbing a layer of grim off the cobblestone pathway. It wasn't the most dignified job, nor a very satisfying one at that, but it did keep him out of his long thought deceased master's reach. And that, was all Creeper really wanted.

The first few days had been hard on him. After his master's gruesome demise, he had finally been given the chance to explore every facet of life, everything it had to offer to him. Admittedly, there wasn't much to it for a goblin of little tastes, but Creeper had enjoyed his freedom. He also enjoyed the idea that he wasn't getting pummeled for every little mistake that he made.

He had taken up residence in a shabby little hut near the edge of a far off village, a place where he wouldn't be found by those familiar with his face, nor from anyone who happened to cross his path. It had been deserted for some time, shingles falling from the roof, doors and windows rotting out, making it the perfect place for him to camp out and claim for himself. Nobody would be looking for him there. For food, he had relied on what little scraps his grimy hands managed to get on. Half eaten chicken wings, stale bread, sour milk. Anything someone would throw out. He bid his time, waited for something to come along and give him the second chance he had been craving. What life had thrown him, was probably the last thing he had expected. The Horned King, back from the dead. He himself, back in the service of a merciless commander.

Mumbling indistinguishable words of frustration under his breath, the bristles of his brush quickly dry out. Most of the crud had been removed from the cobblestones around him, but dipping the brush back into a soapy bucket of water, Creeper continues his work, knowing full well that only perfection would be tolerated by his master. Before he can really get back into the groove of things, however, a metallic slam echoes across the chamber, gaining his attention. Laughing nervously, Creeper sets the brush aside as he jumps to his feet, ready to greet the presence. "Sire? Sire! I've been cleaning, sire! Just as you ordered, hehe."

The hemline of his red cloak dragging the ground, the Horned King solemnly approaches his slave, his empty eyes trained on the goblin. He didn't say a word, allowing Creeper to break the tension clearly filling the room. Just as it had been difficult for the servant to return to this old way of life, it had been equally difficult for the master to adjust. Neither knew quite how to take one another, and although the Horned King was still in control, Creeper had gained a sort of respect from him. Or at the very least, the Horned King had found himself relying on the goblin quite a bit more than he was accustomed to. After all, outside of Creeper, he had no one else to turn to, no one else to give orders.

Upon seeing that their guest was no longer by the Horned King's side, the nervous grin Creeper held on his face quickly diminishes. He had hoped that once Maleficent arrived, she would have been given her orders and sent out on her way. "Where is...the woman, sire? Were you not-" The Horned King cuts him short, allowing a sort of muffled, hissing sound to escape from his throat. He hated when Creeper questioned him, especially about his plans. They were for him to know, and Creeper to find out. Jumping back a ways, Creeper keeps his head low, looking to avoid a lashing for this rather simple question.

"Maleficent has endured quite enough for now. I am giving her a moment to compose herself." There, that struck the Horned King as a simple enough explanation. If Creeper was wise, he wouldn't ask any further. Brushing past Creeper without giving him another look, he gives his slave a gesture for him to follow. Any further conversation would not occur here. "She is to be cleaned and rested before receiving new garbs and a fresh meal."

Hopping along, Creeper points his finger, hoping to raise a point. "Bu-But sire! Don't you think that it would be best to-"

His words are cut off a second time, clearly not appreciated, if indicated by the sharper, more domineering tone of voice. "Nothing more is happen until this occurs."

With a sigh, Creeper nods his head and mutters a simple, "Of course, sire." In the old days, he would have already received multiple lashings for voicing such an opinion, and he wasn't going to further push his luck. If his master saw it fit to follow through this in such a manner, it wasn't his place to object.

"Then we are in an understand. Leave your work. Go, prepare this evening's menu." As the Horned King hands over orders to his slave, his face bathed in streaks of light as they wander past torch after torch, he keeps his face stern and focused. He never once gives Creeper a look, expecting his words to be followed to the letter. "I will have you fetch the mistress when everything is ready."

The corners of his mouth drop at these requests. No, demands. He had hoped that he would be able to avoid direct contact with this deadly woman, but it was clear to him now, that those desires were not to be met. His pace with the Horned King dropping off, he simply watches himself get left behind, worry and fear written all over his pale green face. "Yes...Of course, sire. As you wish."

* * *

Supper.

Maleficent didn't know how long she had been out of it, but by the way the mirror was fogging up, it had probably been some time longer than she had planned. Doing a quick job of washing her face clean, scrubbing any visible marks off her arms and shoulders, the mistress reaches out and grabs a drying cloth from a nearby wrought iron rack. It was time to get dressed. Being seen in the nude was hardly something that was high on her list of priorities.

Water dripping from her body as she stands and wraps the cloth around her waist, tucking it in tight, Maleficent lifts her legs high over the rim and steps out. Other than the cot, there was little for her to explore within the confines of the quarters outside of the chest, and so, that's where she heads next. Kneeling down on the stone, loose drops of water still dripping down and staining the stone below her, the mistress pops the lid of the chest open with ease, pulling it back on the hinges and resting it against the wall. Within, was everything she was going to need.

A new headdress, or rather, helmet, horns just as sharp and sophisticated as ever. Sleek, metal plated boots and bodice, complete with collar, spiked pauldrons and sleeves that fit tight around her arms, coming to a point over her wrists, gauntlets adorned with a purple gemstone. A belt that hung loose around her waist, a loincloth that draped over her legs. It was all black, the collar and loincloth highlighted with purple around the hems. It was a little more revealing than she cared to being seen in. But, the ensemble was clearly intended for purposes beyond a casual chat. If you didn't know better, she looked like she was battle ready.

There was one final item within the chest that solidified this notion. A mace. Whoever would be on the receiving end of this spiked tool, was not going to enjoy the experience. That much was certain. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, the mistress removes the weapon from the chest, carefully testing it's weight and balance, envisioning herself wielding it into battle. A grin on her face, she can only picture one thing. Phillip heeling over at her feet, ready to be crushed with a blow of this mighty weapon.

But, just like all good things, her moment doesn't last.

Upon hearing the door creak open, Maleficent carefully returns the mace to it's home, ultimately deciding that she wasn't going to find it necessary. After all, with her knack for magic, she hardly had a need a physical weapon to use on the offense. "Mistress?" The voice was different, highly annoying, but also rather foreign to her. Upon seeing the pint-sized creature standing cautiously in the doorway, his bright green skin hidden under rags of purple, her suspicions were confirmed. This creature, this Creeper, with his bug eyed, warped expression, was clearly absent upon her arrival, and Maleficent was absolutely fine with it. The goblin reminded her of her own minions almost too greatly. "Yes?"

Fidgeting under her watchful gaze, Creeper struggles to spit his words out, wringing his hands together nervously. "Sire has sent for you, mistress. Sire says that supper is prepared for your honored arrival!" Jumping a few steps back in an uncoordinated manner, Creeper gestures for Maleficent to follow him out the door, with every hope that she would comply. The last thing he wanted was to punished, again, for failing to serve out his master's commands. "Please, please! Follow me! I am to show you to the mess hall."

* * *

The mess hall. Once, the most bustling, cheery part of the castle, now empty of all sound, all excitement. Musty banners hanging from the rafters above, a single long table sits at the center of the hall, adorned with a vast variety of platters and goblets, hosting a variety of foods, local and foreign. A granite fireplace built into the far wall, adjacent from the table, gives out of the only source of light, flames licking out and casting shadows that were hardly welcoming. Sitting at the foot of the table, the Horned King awaits the arrival of his guest, growing impatient with each passing moment.

Strumming his fingers against the table, he begins to wonder if it was such a good idea to allow Creeper the task of fetching Maleficent. Obviously the goblin was a little simple minded, probably got lost somewhere in the castle due to sheer carelessness. Still, the little punching bag was the only aid he had, and he was just going to have to play the cards he had been given. If he was honest with himself, he should be grateful he still had a heartbeat, much less a castle to call home. After the events with that assistant pig keeper...well, he didn't want to dwell on a rather unpleasant past. He had been given a second chance at life, and now with a greater purpose than ever, he fully intended on fulfilling his role within that plan.

Pulled from his thoughts, two sets of feet echo across the chamber. One, rather clumpy and uneven. The other, graceful but firm. It was the very two that he had been waiting for, the only two. Pushing himself up into his seat a little straighter, the Horned King slows his breath and waits. And waits. The footsteps grow louder and more precise as they approach, an occasional nervous chuckle coming from the more unbalanced of the two pairs. Finally, escaping from the darkness of a corridor jutting out from the mess hall, Maleficent comes into his line of sight, a sort of quirky grin on her face.

The Horned King had little knowledge of what that was all about.

"And here we are, mistress! Like I said, just around the corner now, hehe!" Clapping his hands with a satisfaction that he had successfully led her to the supper table, Creeper flashes a toothy smile at the "Mistress of All Evil". He was clearly pleased with himself, and from the way Maleficent curtly nodded her head, she seemed to share his sentiments.

"Thank you, Creeper. You have been most helpful." The loincloth swaying back and forth between her legs, Maleficent casually strolls out across the hall to meet the Horned King at the opposite foot of the table. Surprisingly, she had found Creeper to be a much more capable minion than that of her own back home, and along the way, she had gotten quite the story out of him. About this castle, of the residents that once lived within the walls, and a touch on the Horned King's backstory. But, the time for small talk was over. She needed answers. Real answers.

With a wave of his bony hand, the Horned King gestures for Maleficent to take a seat, blatantly ignoring the mistress' new appearance. He hadn't brought her here to admire a new, fresh take on the woman he had spent quite an unhealthy amount of time studying. It was down to business, as usual. "Sit. We have much to discuss."

"Cutting to the quick, I see. Very good." Pulling out a chair of her own, Maleficent gracefully falls into it, neatly patting down the loincloth as she pulls her legs in to the center of the table. "I do like that in a man. Of course, from what I hear, you are not quite a man, are you?"

The embers within his eyes slowly sparking red, the Horned King glares down on Creeper as though he had let her in on a massive conspiracy. As though she had learned something that she shouldn't have. Creeper, wringing his hands out even worse than earlier, gulps audibly and then silently takes a few steps back, shrinking under his master's gaze. Only now, was he beginning to question the information he had divulged.

"My apologies, sire. I-I did not think to keep certain things secret from-"

"Silence, you fool!" Slamming his fist down on the edge of the wooden table, his empty platter and utensils shaking with the vibrations of his hand, the Horned King had heard enough. He wasn't going to take another excuse from the goblin, especially not in front of his guest.

Yelping in fear, Creeper practically falls over onto his back, desperately trying to scamper away. He knew what came next if he remained in his master's presence. A strangling, choking, breaking of bones. Nothing of which, he wanted to be on the receiving end of. Lunging back into the shadows of the corridor, the goblin scurries out of the mess hall as fast as his stubby, lumps of flesh and bone could carry him, panting all the way.

"Hmm..." Resting her chin on her fist, her arm propped up on the table, elbow down, Maleficent watches all of this with intrigue. From this display, she could gather two things. One, the Horned King held little regard for this minion of his. Two, she probably shared more in common with the king than she had realized on first sight. Yes, he had given her the chance to bathe and dress in new attire, and yes, he was now offering her a meal. But, he could be just as vicious and cruel as she was.

"Take what that idiot says with a grain of salt. He knows little of that which he speaks of." His muscles relaxing, his eyes burning out, the Horned King finally addresses Maleficent head on, without any distraction to get in his way. Taking her current, amused, posture out of the equation, he eyes her horned helmet. "I take it you found everything in a suitable condition?"

Sitting back in her chair, resting her palms in the seat of her lap, Maleficent gives him a delicate nod. "I never did gain the chance to show you my gratitude. For everything you have given me. I hardly expected to be in this position mere hours ago."

"I would imagine, then, that you have questions of me?" Of course, he didn't just expect it, he knew it. He gathered that Creeper had filled her in on the minor details of his past, of what this castle was and of it's noble history, but those facts paled in comparison to what he could tell her. What he would have to tell her, in time.

"Actually, just one."

If he had eyelids, the Horned King would blink in surprise. That was not the answer he had been expecting. "Oh? Pry tell, my dear, what that might entail?"

"Quite simple, really." With a wave of her hand over the table, to all of the goblets and platters spread out before her, ready to be consumed, Maleficent gives him her one question. The one thing that had rested above all the others, the moment she had arrived within these castle walls. It really was the only one that mattered to her. "If what you say is true, that you have indeed been keeping a watchful eye on me, you would know that I am not one to be trifled with. And yet, on the very day when I fail the greatest, when I am my absolute weakest state, you bring me here and give me the opportunity at a second chance. What I wish to know, is why? Why now?"

The Horned King sat silent, hardly moving a muscle as he dwells on this question. Without even realizing what she had said, Maleficent had tripped into territory that the King was not quite ready to unveil to her. It would be a much more complicated answer than he was able to give to such a seemingly simple question. Well, if that was all there was to their conversation, he decided that it was time for her to know the truth. Or at least what she needed to know of the truth.

"Do you believe in fate?"

It took a moment for Maleficent to register the question. Did she believe in fate? In a predestined journey that she would ultimately take, whether she wanted it to come to pass, or not. She had never given it much thought, she hardly enjoyed the notion that she wasn't in control of her own life, regardless of turns it took. "No. I do not wish to believe that everything I say or do has already come to pass."

Folding his fingers together and holding them close to his chin, the Horned King finds the answer hardly surprising. Someone such as Maleficent would have a hard time letting go control of the pilot's seat. She was in for quite the wake up call. If, she chose, of course. He wasn't going to push her into it. She deserved that much.

"Before you are two goblets. One of bronze, the other of gold."

Her eyes only now picking up on the the very distinct goblets, Maleficent hardly has any idea of where this is going. All she had wanted was a simple answer, but she was more likely than not, not getting one. "Your point being?"

"I know more of this universe than you could possibly comprehend. More of its inner workings than you would dream of in your wildest fantasies." He pauses for effect, figuring that she probably didn't believe him. It didn't matter. He pressed on. "You, my dear, are more important in this world than you would realize. However, it is not my place to freely divulge this information. Only if you so choose, shall I let you in on these secrets."

Maleficent quints in disbelief, at the goblets, to the King, and then back to the goblets. He couldn't possibly be serious about all of this. Returning from the land of the dead, did not give him infinite knowledge, she hardly believed. But, she allowed him to continue on in silence.

"Drink from the bronze goblet, and I will return you to your world. We will part, and you may go about your way. Dispose of the mortals who wish to defy you, I care not."

"However, drink from the golden goblet, and I will open your eyes to the world. You will see things in a new light, you will have a new purpose. I can assure you of that much, and nothing more. It will be up to you to do with this new found knowledge, as you see fit."

Observing Maleficent's reaction, plastered all over her face, the Horned King knew that this wouldn't be a difficult choice for her to make. If he was willing to give her the secrets of this universe, she wasn't one to pass up on the offer, despite how ridiculous it may sound. Not if there was something truly better waiting for her.

Her hands wrap firmly around the goblet, the golden goblet, and without a second thought, she rises it to her lips and takes a small sip. It was wine, a little old in taste, but nothing particularly special about it. As it flows down her throat smoothly, Maleficent pulls the goblet away and smacks her lips tastefully, enjoying the simple flavors that he had granted her. Then, with a smile and a raised eyebrow, Maleficent redirects her attention to the Horned King. "Does that answer your question?"

* * *

**And that's the end of the chapter two. **

**Gotta be honest here, didn't particularly love writing this chapter. It's got a lot of necessary filler, but little substance. And...unfortunately, that's where I'm going to have to stop. For now, at least. I'm having a little trouble in the developmental process, and what I'd like to do, is have a backlog of chapters to upload, so that I can be uploading a chapter a week, while at the same time, writing more chapters ahead of time. Just like they have set up on television. So...when will the next chapter be up? Maybe sometime in early April? Maybe earlier? It really depends on how much of the story I can crank out in the next couple of weeks, so we'll see. **

**Oh yeah, as for that little Kuzco bit...I dunno. Did it work? I just love the idea of using Kuzco to break down forth walls, but if it isn't working for you, just let me know. **

**Comments and reviews are always helpful hints at what you'd like to see, remember that! **


	3. Attention readers!

**AU: I am so sorry for doing this to you guys, to everyone who's been watching and waiting for me to update, to everyone who has commented and reviewed...I really had high hopes for this thing, with so many great ideas that I never even came close to getting the chance to explore. But, something has come up. **

**I don't know if it's some sort of cosmic joke, but life never seems to go your way, does it? I can't, won't, get into the specifics, but I just want all of you readers to know how sorry I am that it has come to this. As of now, I can't continue with the story. I literally can not afford my time to this project. It simply takes too much out of my life to get through a single chapter, and I can't keep it up anymore. So, this is it. **

**Until further notice, I'm closing this story down. I didn't want it to end this way, but I really don't have much of a choice. I hope you can forgive me for wasting your time, I apologize...and, I'll just go now. Sorry.**

_**The end?**_


End file.
